Free 'Til the End of Time by Iris Johansen

breath. “I was afraid of that.”
    “Zack is doing all he can. He knows you’re having to twiddle your thumbs until the shipment arrives.”
    “I know. I know.” Sandor turned away with barely concealed impatience. “But there has to be some way he can hurry it up. I’m going to see if I can get through to him.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Alessandra. “Give your message to Paulo. He’s as close to a disinterested observer as you’ll find in Tamrovia.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but strode hurriedly to a large tent several yards across the glade.
    Well, that certainly put her in her place, Alessandra thought. As soon as he was again faced with the problems of his revolution, her attractiveness to him faded into the background.
    “He’s very worried about the weapons,” Paulo said gently. He had been studying her face as she watched Sandor walk away. There was understanding as well as sympathy in those sparkling dark eyes. “The longer the delay, the more chance of death and injuries on both sides. Sandor wants it over.”
    “I know. When ambition calls …”
    Paulo shook his head. “You think he’s ambitious? What can this war give him that he doesn’t have already?”
    “Power.”
    “Sandor?” Paulo threw back his head, and his laughter boomed out. “Do you know what he’s most afraid will come out of this war? He is frightened they will insist he become president of the new republic. He is tired of being Tanzar.”
    “He can always say no.”
    “He is a man who believes in commitment. Such a man has trouble saying no when there is need.” Paulo’s lips twisted. “And there is always need for the Tanzar.”
    Sandor Karpathan would quite probably be the first president of Tamrovia! Why did that idea give her such a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? She unconsciously squared her shoulders. “Sandor said you were unbiased. Yet you’re in his camp and presumably ready to run his errands.”
    “I am a gypsy. We stand apart from wars and politics.”
    “Then why are you with Sandor?”
    “I like him. He is a fine hunter.” Paulo’s eyes twinkled. “Almost as good as I am.” He paused. “You’re afraid to trust this message with Sandor?”
    Was she afraid? Her emotions were in tumult. “I’m not sure.” She smiled. “But I believe I can rely on you, Paulo. Do you think you can take a message to someone and bring back an answer by tonight?”
    “Of course, unless that person is in a solitary cell in Naldona’s high-security prison.” A wide grin lit Paulo’s face. “Then it might take me until tomorrow morning.”
    Alessandra chuckled. Paulo was obviously larger than life in terms of more than his size. “Don’t worry—this person is quite accesssible. That’s one of the reasons I chose him.”
    “Pity. I was hoping for more of a challenge to break the monotony. Do you need a pen and paper?”
    She nodded. “Please.”
    Thirty minutes later she had finished writing the final instructions to Father Dinot and given the message as well as directions to Paulo. She stood watching him move silently through the forest as he left the camp, and slowly shook her head. The man was a giant, a flamboyant giant to boot, and the last person she would have chosen for an undercover mission.
    “You look skeptical.”
    Sandor, frowning, stood beside her. Evidently the radio call had not gone as he wished, she realized.
    “Don’t tell me you don’t trust Paulo either.”
    She pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. He really was in a bad mood. “I wasn’t questioning his integrity, merely his size. Is it safe to send him into an occupied city, where he’ll stick out like a sore thumb?”
    The frown faded slightly. “He’ll be safer than any man I’ve got. Paulo can come and go in seemingly impossible situations. I think he must take on the protective coloration of his surroundings.”
    “Amazing,” she murmured.
    “He’d be the first to agree with you.”